The driveway sits under a good foot of snow, with all of this whiteness there's nowhere to go. I've sent home the servants and locked up the Rolls, stoked me a fire and banked up its coals. To make it quite cozy for you me and dog, we'll burn through this pile of kindling and logs, together our spirits shall find their delight, while outside the winter winds howl up a fright. The muskets are loaded, the pantry is full, our feet are enveloped in socks made of wool, we've sackfuls of goodies and liters of gin, to us it's a blessing when we get snowed in.